


amongst the buzzing of billions

by coldguts



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Chance Meetings, F/F, Have we met before?, Mentions of alcohol, Timeskip, no beta we die like Glenn, turning my own sad edelthea fantasies sweet don't mind me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldguts/pseuds/coldguts
Summary: Decades after the war, an emperor thought long-dead, a songstress alone on a journey, and a chance meeting at a tavern.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	amongst the buzzing of billions

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place about 30 years post-golden deer route! So the Empire lost the war, the 3 nations retained their own styles of governing, etc.

The woman hugged her shawl over her shoulders a little tighter as she entered the tavern.

While she arrived earlier than expected, the sky had turned both darker and colder than she had hoped on being out in, the daylight hours slowly shrinking over the past week in time with the leaves turning golden.

It was her first fall as a traveller. Her first fall in decades without a home to return to.

She paused at the entrance, taking a moment to soak in her surroundings. The lanterns hung up on the walls dimly lit the scene before her; a typically-styled lodge for this region. Booths sequestered off to the sides, half-full with patrons chattering quietly amongst themselves, stacks of barrels finding their home in the corners. The exposed beam ceilings were a feature of Faerghus architecture she hadn’t laid eyes on in what felt like a lifetime. The overall atmosphere was an almost tense quiet, as if everyone who chose to do business there did so because the words uttered would be too secret to be done by the light of day. Across the whole back wall extended a bar, with only one body filling one of a dozen seats.

The woman pursed her lips, before walking over and quietly slipping into a stool with one space between them, dropping her heavy bags onto the ground next to her. The bartender glanced up at the thud, putting down his book to trudge over to greet his newly-arrived patron.

“What can I do ya for?”

The woman thought for a moment, tapping her finger lightly on her chin. “Would it be too much of a stretch to to wonder if you serve tea here?”

“Not at all.” The bartender smiled, voice gruff, but softer than he looked at first glance. “Any blend strike your fancy?”

“Albinean Berry?”

“Comin’ right up.” He turned to fetch the pot from the back room, but was stopped by an exclamation from the woman, and a hand held out to stop him.

“Ah! Before I forget, do you have a room open for tonight? Just a solo will do.”

He gave her a thumbs up. “I’ll get ‘er ready for you after the brew.”

“Thanks.” She offered him sweet smile, crinkling eyes showing her age underneath the makeup she wore.

As he left the room once more, the woman let out a weary sigh, resting her head on the backs of her hands, now leaned over onto the bar counter. Her body was well past its prime, even with the demands of the stage keeping it in shape all these years, and the days spent trekking the countryside with only the heavy bags against her back to keep her company were beginning to wear on her.

“Tea? At a tavern?”

She lifted her gaze as a strange, almost familiar voice rang in her ear, turning her head to identify the patron it belonged to.

Two seats to her left sat a woman who appeared to be around her age, sandy-brown hair cut short to shoulder-length, pulled back with a red ribbon. A few grey tendrils framed her face, a stern, yet approachable expression that sat upon her cheekbones. She wore an outfit fit for a mercenary, loose and padded with leather, and her gloved hand clutched a metal goblet, halfway filled with some unidentified substance.

“Excuse me?”

“Tea.” The woman’s mouth lifted up into a slight smile, though her eyes stayed unwavering. “It’s an unusual order at this time in the evening for a tavern, you must admit.” The woman’s voice was smooth and noble, the low notes tinged with just a hint of roughness from age.

“I like what I like.” The traveller lifted a hand in a half-shrug.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

The traveller raised an eyebrow. “A bold statement, considering I could say the same about you.”

“What would make you say that?”

“Your accent. I’d recognize another Adrestian anywhere.” The traveller smiled, a genuine one.

The woman paused, surprised by the observation, before taking a deep sip from her goblet.

“Two women of the Empire, finding each other in a small tavern outside Mateus.” She set the cup down softly, kicking one leg over the other to better angle herself towards the traveller. “What brings you so far into Faerghus, Dorothea?”

The traveller’s mouth dropped open in surprise, closing, then opening once more as she tried to compose a response to such a revelation. “E-excuse me? Have we met before?” A tinge of panic spiked within her. 

The woman gestured nonchalantly at her bags between them on the grown. “That’s the name embroidered on your satchel. I figured it belonged to you.”

… _A_ _h._ Dorothea took a moment to let her heart rate subside. Of course, this random woman and her had never crossed paths before. There was always a more logical conclusion. She was still new to this life, it was too easy to let her paranoia get the best of her.

“So what brings someone like you so far out from home, Dorothea?” The woman leaned her hand onto the bartop, and Dorothea felt a pang in her chest as she closed the sentence. What was it about this woman saying her name that felt so… _off?_

Why on earth did she want her to say it again?

“Well that’s just it, isn’t it? I have no home anymore.”

“Pardon?” The woman raised an eyebrow in what appeared to be genuine concern, and Dorothea took this opportunity to ease herself into the conversation, twisting on her stool to face her better as well.

“I left my home three months ago for good. Made the decision to throw it all away, and spend the rest of my days travelling!” A tired grin escaped her lips, betraying her enthusiasm for the idea despite her weariness.

“And what would make you do that?”

Dorothea let out a breathy laugh. “If I told you, I'm afraid I’d be making a fool of myself.” She cocked her head, locking their gazes together. “And a first impression’s the most important one, is it not?”

The woman didn’t answer. Her eyes suddenly seemed hollow, heavy as they broke from hers and followed the bartender exiting the back room again.

“Here y’are, Ma’am.” The man placed the large, steaming teacup in front of her, spilling a bit into the saucer“Give the bell a ring if you need anythin’ else, hear me?” He returned to his perch in the corner, sinking back into his book.

Dorothea immediately took the cup into both hands, taking a long, much-needed sip. “H-ah! Hot!”

If she had turned to the left in that moment, she would been faced with a delicate look of nostalgia upon her companion’s face- it was quickly shook off before anyone could notice.

“I haven’t smelled Albinean Berry Tea in years. Though I would have taken you more for a Sweet-Apple type.”

“Am I really that easy to read? Sweet-Apple is my second favourite blend!” Dorothea grinned as she set it back down in the pooled-up saucer. “You used to drink Albinean Berry? Why we may be birds of a feather after all.”

The woman shook her head lightly. “Not me. An old friend used to drink it, Dorothea.”

Another chill down her spine at her name. What _was_ it about the half-smile on her face that made her appear as if she knew more than she let on? As if a secret dwelled under it, just out of Dorothea’s grasp?

“Well, how's this then. If you tell me what your reason for finding yourself all the way out here, I’ll tell you mine?”

The woman hummed, swishing around the liquid in her goblet. “You drive a hard bargain. But to be truthful, I’m not so keen on losing your company just yet. So I will tell you that I’m here for work. Loose ends that need tying up. You?” She took one last deep sip, before delicately setting the empty cup aside.

“Well that’s not fair at all. You barely told me anything!”

The woman laughed, a controlled, purposeful display, almost as if a nervous undercurrent ran underneath it. What was it about her that made her so easy to read to Dorothea? Why, she almost reminded her of-

of-

Of an old friend.

Dorothea shook her head to rid herself of the chasm of thought she teetered precariously on. No use to let that cloud her memory in this moment, when she was supposed to be here, experiencing, making new connections across the continent.

“I can’t say more than that, unfortunately, my work is quite confidential. I’m only passing by here on the way to Kleiman.”

Dorothea’s eyes lit up as her mouth sprung into an ‘O’ shape. “Kleiman? Why, the goddess might be watching over us up there after all, that’s where I’m going too! How wonderful!”

The woman’s eyebrows raised in genuine surprise once more; Dorothea had the feeling she had been hardened to most unexpected developments over her life, as the look did not seem well-practiced.

And yet, it continued to make her stomach churn, and her heart beat even faster. As if her body was screaming something at her that her mind hadn’t caught up to yet. 

“Well, I guess it’s my turn isn’t it? I meant it when I said it’s quite embarrassing.” Dorothea took her mug within both hands again, using the warmth to boost her confidence. Something about talking to this stranger was too easy, even if it unnerved her further. “Promise you won't make fun of me?”

“I would never dream of it.”

“Hmmm.” She smiled. “I knew someone once. A long, long time ago. Loved someone, who loved these lands so much she gave her life to protect the people of them.”

“I’m…” The woman visibly swallowed. “…so sorry for your loss.”

“Nonsense.” Dorothea gave a wave of her hand. “It was almost 30 years ago. I don’t recall if I mentioned it yet, but I’m a songstress by profession. Spent most of those 30 years as a star of the stage, at the Mittelfrank in Enbarr. It was a good job, one that was fulfilling enough. If I hadn’t known her, maybe I could have stayed happy there; eventually retired and trained the next generation.

A sad smile, as her gaze dropped to her lap. “But I did know her. And I knew there was more out there; more than lights, and operas, and flower arrangements, and dresses. I wanted to see the lands and the people she sacrificed everything to try to change things for the better for. So one day, I quit. I sold my home, everything I owned. Three months later, here I am.”

The ambient noise had grown louder in tavern as more patrons filed in for the evening, but in the silence that followed, it was as if Dorothea and the woman sat in a bubble, blind to the world around them.

She quickly brought up her sleeve to dab away a tear threatening to fall from the corner of her eye. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m new at this life, you know? It’s quite lonely. Sometimes I think of turning back, but I know I won’t be any happier there than I am here. And at least here, I feel like I…. understand, more.”

But as she lifted her gaze once more, she was taken aback by the woman’s own wet eyes.

“…Don’t.”

“Excuse me?”

The woman closed her eyes, and softly brought up a hand to lay over Dorothea’s. She had never found anyone on her travels to take her story so personally, and would usually jump away at such a touch from a stranger, but there was something so genuine in the action that she couldn't help but be comforted. “Don’t apologize.”

“I-It’s not as if you asked for your evening to be ruined by the emotions of some silly stranger who just happened to sit beside you.” Dorothea took a deep breath, reigning in the last of her sentimentalities as the woman pulled her hand back to her own lap.

“Why are you going to Duscur?”

“Hm?”

“Kleiman.” She blinked, trying to get rid of the wetness in her own eyes that she seemed to be pretending not to notice the presence of. “The capital city of Duscur. What’s there for you?”

“Ah. I was in a tavern, just like this one, in the mountains in Oghma, about a month back. I had originally planned on travelling west, to Brigid, to visit an old friend. I met an even older friend there.” She crinkled her eyes at the memory. “A man of Duscur, from my school days. We never really had the chance to be close, but he told me such wonderful stories about his homeland, about how far it’s come since the tragedy all those years ago. I knew in that moment I had to see it.”

She sighed, finding herself lost within her own thoughts once again. “A place that even _she_ never got to see restored. The tragedy was a result of the old traditions and values she hated so vehemently, you see? The ones she vowed to change for the better? I want to see it for her. A place that has been touched by so much suffering, where the people of Faerghus and Duscur can now walk hand-in-h-”

Dorothea stopped abruptly, taken aback by the look she found upon the other woman’s face. One of sorrow, and regrets, and feelings that filled Dorothea’s lungs with a grief so tangible she felt like she was drowning.

“I-I’m sorry. I talk too much, I got carried away.”

“You really are something special, aren't you Dorothea?”

Her breath caught in her chest.

Hadn’t she said something like that? So many years ago?

Didn’t Dorothea say that to _her_? Or was it a scene from a dream? So many memories muddled over thirty years, she sometimes couldn’t tell the difference.

But _that_ phrase,

Her high cheekbones, the crinkle her left eye, her lips that looked as soft as-

Dorothea stood up abruptly, knocking back her stool in the process.

“I’m sorry, Miss- well I never even got your name, did I? Hah, how rude of me! And this may come off as even ruder, but I believe I should go find out if my room is ready before turning in for the night. Long day behind me, long day ahead of me!” She picked her bags off the ground frantically, swinging them over her shoulder, her long hair getting caught in her face. “I thank you for your company, and apologize for any lines I may have crossed, I only-”

“Dorothea.” The woman clutched the fabric of Dorothea’s sleeve in her hand. She was standing as well now, several inches shorter than her on their feet.

“Why do you look like her?”

“Pardon me?”

Dorothea took in a deep, shaky breath. She was too old for this, lived too long not to be able to keep herself together in public. “You’re dressed like a mercenary. But you speak like a noble. I’ve spent enough time around both, don’t test me. _Why?_ ”

They stood like that for a moment, the woman’s hand on her arm, and Dorothea in stance as if she were about to sprint out the door at any moment.

Suddenly, the hold was released, and the woman dropped her hands to her sides. “…May I show you something? In my room?”

“As _if_ I’d just follow some stranger back into their quarters! Do you really take me for the type to… to…”

She trailed off as tired eyes the size of saucers stared back at her, pleading.

She’d only seen eyes so big on such a stern portrait on one other face before.

“I am asking for your trust. Please. There’s something I need you to see… Dorothea.”

Her name from those lips again. Uttered from a voice so smooth, so knowing.

Her head was spinning as she accompanied the woman silently, out of the now-noisy safety of the tavern, and into the cold of the silent night. They found the entrance to the inn in the back of the same building, and Dorothea followed her up the stairs, stopping as she pulled out her keys and unlocked the door to the room labeled ’12’.

A chill ran down her spine as they entered. There was nothing lit in the room to keep it heated as they sun set and took the warmth of day with it. It was small, quaint; nothing out of the ordinary for an inn this far north. The curtains hadn’t been drawn, and so the room was illuminated only by the light of the moon, conveniently placed just in view of the window.

She’d been so lost in her own thoughts, purposefully distracting her from the turmoil in her mind that she didn’t even notice the woman had been rummaging through her luggage until she had stood back up, turning back towards Dorothea and meeting her in the middle of the room.

“I…”

She started, clutching something in the hand dropped to her side. Neither of them moved, as if the scene they stood in could vanish if it were disturbed, a risk neither were willing to take. 

Eventually the woman held out her hand.

“May I?”

Dorothea nodded, placing her own shaky hand open on top of hers and closing her eyes.

Into her palm, she dropped something something cold, something weighty. When she found the courage to open them, she found herself looking at-

“I… I have kept these a very long time. I figured it only appropriate to return them.”

But Dorothea wasn’t listening anymore. How could she, when her heart had stopped in her chest? She slowly curled her fingers shut, her hand moving of its own accord til she held her fist against her, as if contact alone could make it beat again.

“Dorothea? D-Dorothea!”

The will to stand had left her, and she dropped, with all the grace of a trained dancer, to her knees. She hadn't even realized she was crying until she felt the wet of tears soak through the thighs of her trousers.

The woman quickly knelt down next to her, tentatively bringing a hand back and towards, until she found the volition to rest it lightly on Dorothea’s shoulder.

Dorothea’s gaze snapped up, as if suddenly magnetised toward the woman’s.

“W…why here? Why now? Edelgard, I…”

The woman shook her head, bringing her other hand up to clutch at Dorothea’s other side. “This is not my doing in the slightest. Maybe the goddess does exist after all, if she chose to bring us together again after all this time.”

Dorothea tried to breathe regularly in between the tears, but they wracked her body as if a parasite that had taken over all rational thought. Without warning, she threw herself at Edelgard, arms wrapping around her neck as she sobbed into her shoulder.

Edelgard tied her arms around her waist, holding her closer, and Dorothea was struck by a feeling she had imagined so many thousands of times, an embrace she told herself she would never feel again. 

“B-but you’re dead! Gods, Edie, you died that day! Thirty years ago, I-I saw it with my own eyes!”

Edelgard ran a hand up and down her back, and when she spoke, it was barely more than a whisper in the other girl’s ear. “It’s a long story. Not one for-”

“No!” Dorothea shot up, holding her back at arms length. “Edelgard von Hresvelg, I am fifty-four years old. I've spent my whole life thinking I lost the only thing I ever hold dear, and now she’s sitting in front of me in an inn all the way in Mateus.” She let out a short laugh, one tinged with sadness and nervousness. “You’re going to tell me immediately _how_ in Seiros’ name that came to be.”

Edelgard’s own eyes crinkled as she smiled, wet once more. She released her hold on Dorothea, adjusting her legs so that she was seated cross-legged in front of her.

“…That day. The siege in Enbarr. I should have died. I _thought_ I was dying. I even remember my last thought. Telling myself that I had failed everyone. That I had failed _you_.”

Dorothea drew in a sharp breath.

“And then I awoke in a room I now know was on an island off the coast of Rusalka. Those Who Slither In The Dark weren’t done with me yet.” She chuckled. “Imagine that. Being snatched from death only to be put through your worst hell yet. I made a promise to them as Emperor, and I was held to that failure.”

Dorothea’s heart sank as she understood the implication, remembering the torture she had described to her from her childhood all those years ago. She placed a soft hand on her crossed knee.

“I escaped once I regained my strength. A little bit of a different match when I was at my physical prime, even against their advanced magic. Found a raft, sailed to land. But when I arrived back in the Empire-”

“The war was already over.” Dorothea finished for her, her voice barely audible. 

“Exactly. I started the war for a reason. A reason I believed in, and still believe in to this day. But the bloodshed?” She shook her head. “That was something I was not prepared for. And when I returned to a land of peace, I couldn’t…” Edelgard sighed, her age, her weariness, her regrets expelled with it. “I couldn’t do that again. The Emperor was dead. The Alliance was spreading peace, even if alongside complacency. My reappearance would only add to political tensions, and inevitably lead to more violence. My chance had come and gone. And so, I stayed dead.”

The tears had reappeared in Dorothea’s eyes, as she found herself asking the question that had been buzzing in the back of her mind this whole time.

“Edie…”

“Yes?”

She swallowed, unsure if she even wanted to hear the answer.

“But… Where have you been this whole time? Why didn’t you come see _me?_ ”

Edelgard shook her head again. “And put you in even more danger? Dorothea, fighting in a war is one thing. But to have Those Who Slither In The Dark as your enemy? That’s another game entirely. One I wasn't willing to bring to anyone I held dear.”

She brought her hand up towards Dorothea’s still resting on her leg.

“…May I?”

Dorothea nodded silently, as Edelgard intertwined her fingers within her own.

“I know the Alliance holds the belief they took them down for good after Enbarr. But Those Who Slither are an ancient organization, spread across and inside the continent to a level you could not imagine. Influencing all aspects of politics and society to further their own gain. It’s not nearly as simple as infiltrating their headquarters once. That’s what I spent the first two decades or so doing. Taking them down, one by one.”

She absentmindedly brought a hand up to pull at one of her short, sandy locks.

“Do you know how I know I achieved that goal? One day, my hair started growing in brown again. Their magic no longer had a hold over Fodlan. Things have gotten better since then, even if at a slightly slower place than I originally intended.”

Dorothea chuckled, her own hand moving to tangle within the other woman’s hair.

“Only you could single-handedly take down the most nefarious organization of our time. The hair’s a good look though! Suits you wondrously, even if it did throw me off your scent for a moment there.”

Edelgard flushed slightly at the compliment. “Ah… and since then? I’ve been a traveller as well. Lending my political knowledge in small towns trying to break free of the influence of the Church. I supposed I’ll be doing what I can until I drop dead to make up for the past in some way or another.”

“You never thought of returning to Enbarr?”

Edelgard shook her head staunchly at that. “I fantasized about it an… embarrassing amount. But it was never realistically in the cards. Too much danger, too much risk of being recognized, and ruining all the progress I had made over my life.” She shrugged. “The Emperor was dead. She no longer walked this earth. What home did I have left in Enbarr to return to?”

“…Mine?” Dorothea’s voice was no more than a whisper.

The pair sat there in silence once more, thirty years of hopes, of regrets, of dreams, of failures passing wordlessly between them. 

Without speaking, Dorothea stood up, walking over to the mirror on the vanity against the wall. She opened the palm of her hand and held out in front of her her old earrings; tear-shaped, gold and gaudy, with a green gem laid in the centre. 

“You kept them polished.” She remarked as she slipped them on, using her reflection to guide her in the low moonlight.

“You always kept yours in mint condition. When I looked at them, I wanted to see them as you would. As if I were only keeping them for a moment,” She stood up, padding slowly back over to Dorothea. “As if you’d return through the door any second, that night’s dinner in arm, and you’d laugh, and thank me for holding them, and we’d spend the night together, and in the morning we’d be off. Hand-in-hand, like we used to. Back in a life I can barely tell myself really happened.”

She smiled, as the tears finally started to fall from her eyes, bringing up a hand to play with the earrings now worn by Dorothea. “I tried them on, once or twice. Never looked as nice as I recalled them on you. And now, I see I remembered correctly.”

Dorothea fell into tears herself once more, wrapping her arms tight around Edelgard’s shoulders.

It may have been seconds, it could have been minutes, it might as well have been hours the two of them stood there, bodies pressed against each other, tears falling into each other’s hair.

“I-I’m so _old_ now Edie!” Dorothea laughed, pulling back finally to look the love of her life in the eye. “I’m so old, and I want to be so _mad_ at you, but all I feel is a relief I haven’t known in thirty years.”

“You’re more beautiful than the last time I saw you.” Edelgard reached up, tucking a long brown strand behind her ear. “And trust me when I say I have no time for mincing the truth.”

Dorothea glanced behind her, out the window at the moon risen even higher in the sky.

“Now what, Edie?”

“Now what?” Her lips turned downwards slightly in thought. “Excuse me if I’m… being presumptuous, but would you stay here tonight, Dorothea? The innkeeper seemed a fair man, I imagine he'd be fine freeing up your room.”

Dorothea paused, not responding for several moments as the implication rang clear in her brain. Eventually, she released her hold on the other woman, walking over to the entrance and picking up her bags she had dropped long ago, before returning to her side. 

“I think… I think we both need a good night’s rest. A long way to Kleiman in the morning, don’t you think?” She winked.

“You’ll… be joining me?”

A burst of laughter from Dorothea. “Not even the goddess herself could stop me! Don’t tell me you even doubted that for a moment, my Edie!”

She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against Edelgard’s cheek. "In the meantime, today’s been a bit of a shock for the both of us. I, at least, have a hell of a lot to process, I’d expect you do too. I’m going back to the tavern to pick up my keys from the nice young man behind the bar. Meet at 9 o’clock tomorrow at the inn entranceway? Seems we have our whole lives behind us to make up for, that’s a lot of lost time!”

A laugh escaped from Edelgard’s lips, a genuine one this time, pure, and giddy, and childlike. “I lost you once. I’m not going to let a late awakening let me miss out once more.” She grabbed Dorothea by the collar of her shirt and pulled her gently downwards. 

The kiss was chaste as it was short, but both Edelgard and Dorothea found themselves flushed as they pulled away.

“Tomorrow?”

Dorothea grinned, making her way back towards the door.“T-tomorrow.”

As the door shut behind her, she paused, taking a moment to lean her back against it, close her eyes, and breathe. 

_“And every day after that.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you if you made it to the end! I hope you enjoyed! I've been playing around with this idea in my head for a while now. 
> 
> No matter what, they'll always find each other, yeah?~


End file.
